called again when Sashaâs time with Thomas came around. Anna was past fifty at the time when Sashaâs second labor began, and a widow. She had one son of her own, and in his twentieth year he contracted the Shaking Disease, which always killed its victims in terrible pain after some years of suffering.
She loved this boy very much, and at last, after every other idea had proved useless, she went to Flagg. This had been ten years before, neither prince yet born and Roland himself still a royal bachelor. He received her in his dank basement rooms, which were near the dungeonsâduring their interview the uneasy woman could sometimes hear the lost screams of those who had been locked away from the sunâs light for years and years. And, she thought with a shudder, if the dungeons were near, then the torture chambers must also be near. Nor did Flaggâs apartment itself make her feel any easier. Strange designs were drawn on the floor in many colors of chalk. When she blinked, the designs seemed to change. In a cage hung from a long black manacle, a two-headed parrot cawed and sometimes talked to itself, one head speaking, the other head answering. Musty books frowned down at her. Spiders spun in dark corners. From the laboratory came a mixture of strange chemical smells. Yet she stammered out her story somehow and then waited in an agony of suspense.
âI can cure your son,â he said finally.
Anna Crookbrowsâs ugly face was transformed into something near beauty by her joy. âMy Lord!â she gasped, and could think of no more, so she said it again. âOh, my Lord!â
But in the shadow of his hood, Flaggâs white face remained distant and brooding, and she felt afraid again.
âWhat would you pay for such a miracle?â he asked.
âAnything,â she gasped, and meant it. âOh my Lord Flagg, anything!â
âI ask for one favor,â he said. âWill you give it?â
âGladly!â
âI donât know what it is yet, but when the time comes, I shall.â
She had fallen on her knees before him, and now he bent toward her. His hood fell back, and his face was terrible indeed. It was the white face of a corpse with black holes for eyes.
âAnd if you refuse what I ask, woman . . .â
âI shall not refuse! Oh my Lord, I shall not! I shall not! I swear it on my dear husbandâs name!â
âThen it is well. Bring your son to me tomorrow night, after dark.â
She led the poor boy in the next night. He trembled and shook, his head nodded foolishly, his eyes rolled. There was a slick of drool on his chin. Flagg gave her a dark, plum-colored potion in a beaker. âHave him drink this,â he said. âIt will blister his mouth, but have him drink every drop. Then get the fool out of my sight.â
She murmured to him. The boyâs shaking increased for a moment as he tried to nod his head. He drank all of the liquid and then doubled over, screaming.
âGet him out,â Flagg said.
âYes, get him out!â one of the parrotâs two heads cried.
â Get him out, no screaming allowed here! â the other head screamed.
She got him home, sure that Flagg had murdered him. But the next day the Shaking Disease had left her son completely, and he was well.
Years passed. When Sashaâs labor with Thomas began, Flagg called for her and whispered in her ear. They were alone in his deep rooms, but even so, it was better that such a dread command be whispered.
Anna Crookbrowsâs face went deadly white, but she remembered Flaggâs words: If you refuse . . .
And would not the King have two children? She had only one. And if the King wanted to remarry and have even more, let him. In Delain, women were plentiful.
So she went to Sasha, and spoke encouragingly, and at a critical moment a little knife glittered in her hand. No one saw the one small cut she made. A moment later, Anna cried: